Will that do?"

He saw the struggle in Cehmai's face. The impulse to refuse, to fight,

to spread the news across the city that Otah Machi lived. And then the

respect for his elders that had been ground into him from his first day

in the school and for all the years since he'd taken the brown robes

they shared. Maati waited, forcing himself to patience. And in the end,

Cehmai nodded once, turned, and stalked away.

Five days, Maati thought, shaking his head. I wonder what I thought to

manage in that time. I should have asked for ten.

THE RAINS CAME IN THE EARLY EVENING: LIGHTNING AND THE BLUE-GRAY bellies

of cloudbank. The first few drops sounded like stones, and then the

clouds broke with a sudden pounding-thousands of small drums rolling.

Otah sat in the window and looked out at the courtyard as puddles

appeared and danced white and clear. The trees twisted and shifted under

gusts of wind and the weight of water. The little storms rarely lasted

more than a hand and a half, but in that time, they seemed like

doomsday, and they reminded Otah of being young, when everything had

been full and torrential and brief. He wished now that he had the skill

to draw this brief landscape before the clouds passed and it was gone.

There was something beautiful in it, something worth preserving.

"You're looking better."

Otah shifted, glancing back into the room. Sinja was there, his long

hair slicked down by the rain, his robes sodden. Otah took a welcoming

pose as the commander strode across the room toward him, dripping as he

came.

"Brighter about the eyes, blood in your skin again. One would think

you'd been eating, perhaps even walking around a bit."

"I feel better," Otah said. "That's truth."

"I didn't doubt you would. I've seen men far worse off than you pull

through just fine. They've found your corpse, by the way. Identified it

as you, just as we'd hoped. There are already half a hundred stories

about how that came to be, and none of them near the truth. Amiit-cha is

quite pleased, I think."

"I suppose it's worth being pleased over," Otah said.

"You don't seem overjoyed."

"Someone killed my father and my brothers and placed the blame on me. It

just seems an odd time to celebrate."

Sinja didn't answer this, and for a moment, the two men sat in silence

broken only by the rain. Then Otah spoke again. "Who was he? The man

with my tattoo? Where did you find him?"

"He wasn't the sort of man the world will miss," Sinja said. "Amiit

found him in a low town, and we arranged to purchase his indenture from

the low magistrate before they hung him."

"What had he done?"

"I don't know. Killed someone. Raped a puppy. Whatever soothes your

conscience, he did that."

"You really don't care."

"No," Sinja agreed. "And perhaps that makes me a bad person, but since I

don't care about that, either ..."

He took a pose of completion, as if he had finished a demonstration.

Otah nodded, then looked away.

"Too many people die over this," Otah said. "Too many lives wasted. It's

an idiot system."

"This is nothing. You should see a real war. There is no bigger waste

than that."

"You have? Seen war, I mean?"

"Yes. I fought in the Westlands. Sometimes when the Wardens took issue

with each other. Sometimes against the nomad bands when they got big

enough to pose a real threat. And then when the Galts decide to come

take another bite out of them. There's more than enough opportunity there."

A distant Hash of lightning lit the trees, and then a breath later, a

growl of thunder. Otah reached his hand out, letting the cool drops wet

his palm.

"What's it like?" he asked.

"War? Violent. Brutish, stupid. Unnecessary, as often as not. But I like

the part where we win."

Otah chuckled.

"You seem ... don't mind my prying at you, but for a man pulled from

certain death, you don't seem to be as happy as I'd expected," Sinja

said. "Something weighing on you?"

"Have you even been to Yalakeht?"

"No, too far east for me."

"They have tall gates on the mouths of their side streets that they

close and lock every night. And there's a tower in the harbor with a

permanent fire that guides ships in the darkness. In Chaburi-Tan, the

street children play a game I've never seen anywhere else. They get just

within shouting distance, strung out all through the streets, and then

one will start singing, and the next will call the song on to the next

after him, until it loops around to the first singer with all the

mistakes and misunderstandings that make it something new. They can go

on for hours. I stayed in a low town halfway between Lachi and

Shosheyn-Tan where they served a stew of smoked sausage and pepper rice

that was the best meal I've ever had. And the eastern islands.

"I was a fisherman out there for a few years. A very bad one, but ...

but I spent my time out on the water, listening to the waves against my

little boat. I saw the way the water changed color with the day and the

weather. The salt cracked my palms, and the woman I was with made me

sleep with greased cloth on my hands. I think I'll miss that the most."

"Cracked palms?"

"The sea. I think that will be the worst of it."

Sinja shifted. The rain intensified and then slackened as suddenly as it

had come. The trees stood straighter. The pools of water danced less.

"The sea hasn't gone anywhere," Sinja said.

"No, but I have. I've gone to the mountains. And I don't expect I'll

ever leave them again. I knew it was the danger when I became a courier.

I was warned. But I hadn't understood it until now. It's the problem in

seeing too much of the world. In loving too much of it. You can only

live in one place at a time. And eventually, you pick your spot, and the

memories of all the others just become ghosts."

Sinja nodded, taking a pose that expressed his understanding. Otah

smiled, and wondered what memories the commander carried with him. From

the distance in his eyes, it couldn't all have been blood and terror.

Something of it must have been worth keeping.

"You've decided, then," Sinja said. "Amiit-cha was thinking he'd need to

speak with you about the issue soon. Things will be moving in Mach] as